Read Online Primal Scream by Michael Slade - Free Book Online
Authors: Michael Slade
Tags: Fiction, General, Suspense, Psychological, Thrillers, Mystery & Detective, Suspense fiction, Horror, Canada, Fiction - Psychological Suspense, Horror Tales, Horror & Ghost Stories, Horror - General
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the grisly miniature. How ghostly the shriveled ash-white skin was in its snake nest of tangled black hair. How empty both sockets without eyeballs seemed behind their stitching. How secretive the thin lips pierced by small gold rings laced together hoop to hoop with a zigzag black leather thong were. The chief had never seen a shrunken head in the flesh, so why did something about this trophy haunt his subconscious?
" Tzantza ," Gill said. "That's the Jivaro name. The Indians of Ecuador invented shrinking. The cut-off head is left in a wicker basket to drain off blood, while the Jivaro spreads banana leaves around a fire, above which hangs a large clay pot of boiling water. Bled, the head is gripped by the hair and immersed for thirty minutes, until the skin is paper-white and smells like cannibal food. Then sand is added to the pot and it's brought to a boil again."
Her perfume is expensive.
To mask the taint of the morgue.
"The back of the head's slit open with a machete," she continued, "crown to nape of the neck to remove the skull, then the slit and both eyes are sewn shut. Using a tool like a trowel, the shrinker fills the empty head with sand from the pot, spooning it in through the open neck. After several minutes the cooling sand is dumped and replaced with hot. Eventually the head shrinks down to this, except for the hair, which doesn't shrink, and seems abnormally long."
"The rings?" said Robert.
"Yes, that's odd. Stitching the lips shut ends the shrinking. Jivaros sew them together with a bone needle and thong. Trapping the victim's spirit inside keeps it from haunting the shrinker. Whoever shrank this tzantza added rings."
"I wonder why."
Zinc Chandler crossed to the Strategy Wall. It was DeClercq's habit when solving a case or plotting a book to plan visually, so two of his office walls were lined floor to ceiling with corkboard. The chief was proud to see Zinc adopt his method, and waiting for him were two collages split by a vertical line, so moving toward the inspector he said, "Fill me in."
"On Wednesday night the Mad Dog found this corpse up north as he retreated from photographing the rebels at Totem Lake."
Zinc tapped photos in the left collage showing the body under the frozen falls.
"Headquarters was informed and word spread through the Force, but before the media were briefed early next morning, someone sent you the shrunken head by dropping a parcel into the chute out front of the main Vancouver post office."
DeClercq held up three fingers to knock down. "The headless body and bodiless head are a coincidence. A leak in the Force prompted a copycat's act. Or the killer of the headless corpse sent me its head."
"A copycat would have to kill, shrink, and mail so fast that I think that unlikely, unless the head posted was pre-shrunk," said Zinc.
They moved to a color copy of the packaging pinned to the other collage.
"Plain brown wrapper, available anywhere. Box from Christmas, for a tree ornament. Scotch tape to seal and rubber cement for the label. No fingerprints inside and no hairs or fibers except the head's. Lots of prints on the wrapper, but none CPIC could match. The typed label is from a daisy wheel. Replace the wheel and there goes any link."
Zinc tapped the copy of the label on the wall:
Commanding Officer
Special External Section
Royal Canadian Mounted Police
5255 Heather Street Vancouver, B.C. V5Z 1K6
"No note. No call claiming credit. Just the label, presumably addressed to you. The parcel arrived here in Friday's mail."
"Check if the main post office has a cut-off time, prior to which a chute drop makes Thursday's delivery, and after which it's held for Friday's mail. That might tighten the time line."
"The check is in the mail," Zinc punned. "I should have an answer soon."
DeClercq sensed Gill approaching the wall as if on cue, then felt the caress of her breath on the hairs of his neck. As Chandler returned to the first collage, she slipped between the men, so
" Tzantza ," Gill said. "That's the Jivaro name. The Indians of Ecuador invented shrinking. The cut-off head is left in a wicker basket to drain off blood, while the Jivaro spreads banana leaves around a fire, above which hangs a large clay pot of boiling water. Bled, the head is gripped by the hair and immersed for thirty minutes, until the skin is paper-white and smells like cannibal food. Then sand is added to the pot and it's brought to a boil again."
Her perfume is expensive.
To mask the taint of the morgue.
"The back of the head's slit open with a machete," she continued, "crown to nape of the neck to remove the skull, then the slit and both eyes are sewn shut. Using a tool like a trowel, the shrinker fills the empty head with sand from the pot, spooning it in through the open neck. After several minutes the cooling sand is dumped and replaced with hot. Eventually the head shrinks down to this, except for the hair, which doesn't shrink, and seems abnormally long."
"The rings?" said Robert.
"Yes, that's odd. Stitching the lips shut ends the shrinking. Jivaros sew them together with a bone needle and thong. Trapping the victim's spirit inside keeps it from haunting the shrinker. Whoever shrank this tzantza added rings."
"I wonder why."
Zinc Chandler crossed to the Strategy Wall. It was DeClercq's habit when solving a case or plotting a book to plan visually, so two of his office walls were lined floor to ceiling with corkboard. The chief was proud to see Zinc adopt his method, and waiting for him were two collages split by a vertical line, so moving toward the inspector he said, "Fill me in."
"On Wednesday night the Mad Dog found this corpse up north as he retreated from photographing the rebels at Totem Lake."
Zinc tapped photos in the left collage showing the body under the frozen falls.
"Headquarters was informed and word spread through the Force, but before the media were briefed early next morning, someone sent you the shrunken head by dropping a parcel into the chute out front of the main Vancouver post office."
DeClercq held up three fingers to knock down. "The headless body and bodiless head are a coincidence. A leak in the Force prompted a copycat's act. Or the killer of the headless corpse sent me its head."
"A copycat would have to kill, shrink, and mail so fast that I think that unlikely, unless the head posted was pre-shrunk," said Zinc.
They moved to a color copy of the packaging pinned to the other collage.
"Plain brown wrapper, available anywhere. Box from Christmas, for a tree ornament. Scotch tape to seal and rubber cement for the label. No fingerprints inside and no hairs or fibers except the head's. Lots of prints on the wrapper, but none CPIC could match. The typed label is from a daisy wheel. Replace the wheel and there goes any link."
Zinc tapped the copy of the label on the wall:
Commanding Officer
Special External Section
Royal Canadian Mounted Police
5255 Heather Street Vancouver, B.C. V5Z 1K6
"No note. No call claiming credit. Just the label, presumably addressed to you. The parcel arrived here in Friday's mail."
"Check if the main post office has a cut-off time, prior to which a chute drop makes Thursday's delivery, and after which it's held for Friday's mail. That might tighten the time line."
"The check is in the mail," Zinc punned. "I should have an answer soon."
DeClercq sensed Gill approaching the wall as if on cue, then felt the caress of her breath on the hairs of his neck. As Chandler returned to the first collage, she slipped between the men, so
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